Dell looked over Gentleman Jim’s shoulder while he read the writing on the envelope.
“A message for Buffalo Bill,” read the writing; “to be delivered to Gentleman Jim, in Sun Dance, and by him opened in the presence of the scout.”
“That’s plain enough; eh, Miss Dauntless?” said the gambler.
“It’s plain enough,” agreed the girl, “but a brain-twisting puzzle, nevertheless. If the scout——”
At that instant a fall of hoofs struck on the ears of each member of the group. All eyes turned in the direction of the trail leading up and out of the cañon.
Four riders were approaching that particular part of the “flat.” Buffalo Bill, on his big black horse, Bear Paw, was in the lead. Behind the scout came Wild Bill, Nick Nomad, and Little Cayuse.
“Well, well!” exclaimed Gentleman Jim, “this couldn’t have happened better.”
Putting their horses to the gallop, Buffalo Bill and his pards were soon drawing rein close to the group near the dead steer.
“What’s been going on here, friends?” queried the king of scouts, sweeping a curious eye over the scene before him.